I was editing this book for the Dutch publication and I decided to add an epilogue because it felt like something was lacking. 

. . .

Phantom let his thumb trace along the points of the plastic star. The ring of the keychain pressed against the skin of his index finger. This wasn't the first grave he had visited this week. Unlike at the graves of his parents and brother, this time he was alone. Ezra had stayed behind in the parking lot. It felt like something he had to do by himself.

He had never visited his brother's grave. His parents', yes, though it had been a long time ago, and always with Travis by his side. When he'd stood there a few days ago, he hadn't felt the urge to speak to the stone.

Maybe because they had been like stars to him, stars he had spoken to countless times. Or maybe because Lola's grave was still fresh.

Because her energy might still linger here.

"Hey." The star, painted in the colors of the rainbow, now lay in the palm of his hand. "I never apologized to you. For not daring to tell you I liked men. For starting a relationship with you, for playing with your feelings. I'm sorry. You deserved so much more. I was sure you'd find it sooner or later—someone who adored you, who fell in love with the light that always shone inside you, even when storm clouds gathered overhead." He took a deep breath. "If anyone should have known better, it's me. Life is always unpredictable. It always tears away those who don't deserve it." His throat tightened. "I'm sorry for how it all turned out. That Nathan and I..." He fell silent, still too ashamed to finish the sentence. "Sorry, Lo. Wherever you are, I hope you're laughing. That you're dancing, singing. That you'll never have nightmares again." He set the keychain on the headstone. "And if you meet my brother there, tell him I miss him. I miss you both."

Phantom stepped back. His gaze dropped to the flower-covered grave. It still felt unreal that beneath it lay a coffin holding what was left of the once lively, sweet girl.

A fate they would all meet sooner or later.

He turned—and froze when he saw Nathan standing a short distance away. The man hunched slightly, as if caught in the act.

He looked miserable, dark circles stark against his pale face. It struck Phantom. Lola's death had been devastating, but for Phantom it had also been a turning point—one that, in the end, had changed his life for the better. Not only did he have Ezra now, but he had also, in a way, found himself again by laying his past to rest.

Nathan clearly hadn't found that peace.

Phantom walked toward him. Nathan ducked into the collar of his coat.

"Sorry," Nathan mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "I bring flowers here every Friday. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Thanks. I... still had a few things to say to her."

Nathan stayed quiet.

Phantom searched for words. He wanted to say something to him too. There was no point in asking how he was—Phantom could see well enough. But one question gnawed at him. "Do you regret it? Your father," he clarified, before Nathan could think he meant their disastrous kiss.

Nathan let out a long breath and looked at his sister's grave. "It doesn't bring her back."

"No."

"I don't regret it," he said at last. "But I did send my mother an anonymous letter last week, telling her the truth about Lola's death. It broke her. But I think it was necessary to truly start healing. She showed me the letter... it brought us a little closer. It makes me feel less alone in my grief."

Phantom smiled. "I'm glad to hear that."

"It'll always hurt. But we'll get through it."

Unbidden, Travis's face came to Phantom's mind. "Yeah. The pain will fade at times, but flare up without warning. But they deserve that, don't they? That's how they stay with us. We carry them with us, always."

A faint, sad smile touched Nathan's lips. "That's right."

Phantom put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "It took me fifteen years before I could truly grieve for my brother. I'm glad you're not running from it. It takes strength and courage to face the pain. I hope you'll shine again. For her. For yourself, now that you don't have to hide anymore."

At last, Nathan looked at him. The pain was there, sharp as shards cutting into his heart. "I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive myself."

"You will, if you keep her close. I'm sure she would forgive you. All that time she kept you at a distance because she was afraid of losing you. Don't lose yourself now."

Guilt could eat a person alive just as much as a thirst for revenge could.

"I'll try," Nathan murmured.

Phantom gave him an encouraging smile and let go. He left the cemetery with a lighter heart than when he had entered, and slipped into the car beside Ezra.

His boyfriend rested a hand on his leg. He didn't speak, but his eyes asked how it had gone. Phantom leaned his head against Ezra's shoulder and slid his hand over his.

"I saw Nathan. He's having a rough time. I just hope he finds someone. Someone like you." He lifted his head and reached for Ezra's lips.

"The brother of a loved one's killer," Ezra said instead of kissing him. "I'm not sure that's something we should start recommending to everyone."

Phantom chuckled and claimed his kiss.

Ezra was so much more than that. He was the light that kept the darkness at bay, the warmth Phantom never wanted to be without. A gift he would never take for granted—one he would cherish until his very last breath.